


Entropy

by TheDarknessFactor



Series: The Scientific Implications of Two Sisters [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Assault on Tython, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, Shadow of Revan, Shadow of Revan Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: S'kora Kallig cannot foresee the true implications of the battle to capture Tython until it's too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing too heavy this time, apart from violence that typically happens in canon, and the death of a minor character.

“Nox.”

Inwardly, S’kora sighs.  Outwardly, she doesn’t react. 

“Nox!”

This time she tilts her head in the direction of the voice.  “The argument isn’t going in your favor, and you decided to take it out on me.  I know the drill, Ravage.”

Ravage scoffs.  “Perhaps if you were actually inclined to participate in the discussion, Nox—“

“What ‘discussion’?” S’kora asks.  She debates standing up, but instead reclines further into the chair (which is uncomfortable, but she’ll take what she can get).  “A discussion usually engenders some sort of productivity.  All I have seen thus far is an attempt to verbally strangle Acina— not that you seem to be succeeding in that endeavor.”

Ravage looks at Acina.  Acina raises an eyebrow.

“Your mockery is only aggravating the situation, Nox,” Marr warns. 

S’kora folds her arms.  “Why was this meeting called, Marr?  I have heard nothing of use in the last half hour.”

Someone to her right clears their throat, and S’kora glances over to see Arkous sitting up.  “That would be my request, Darth Nox.  My apologies; I did not realize what a fundamental waste of time waiting for my contact would be.”  He shoots an unimpressed look at Ravage.

S’kora has been cautious around Arkous thus far, but her respect for him inches up a notch at that.

The door to the council chamber opens, and in strides someone that S’kora has hoped to stay as far away from as possible.  In the dimness of the room, the woman’s armor seems almost blindingly white. 

Arkous does stand then, smiling at the figure.  “My lords, I believe you are all familiar with the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Several of the council members lean forward in their seats; others seem to almost shy away from her as she turns her gaze on each of them.  S’kora remains completely still when it’s her turn to be analyzed by the Cathar, only narrowing her eyes behind her mask.

Finally, the Wrath turns to Arkous.  “You summoned me, my lord?”

“Yes, Lord Karrus, thank you.  As you are well aware, I have been preparing my sphere for an offensive that will— hopefully— prove to be a major stepping stone in our fight against those Republic cowards.  What I am proposing has a great deal of risk, and as such, I asked the Empire’s best to lead the charge.”

The Wrath inclines her head.  “I am honored, my lord.”

“As you should be,” Arkous informs her.  “This will be a victory spoken of for millennia.  With the Wrath leading our troops on the ground, as well as several trusted agents of mine coordinating the attack from the sky, I intend to take Tython, the homeworld of the Jedi Order.”

Silence follows his announcement.  Vowrawn looks as though he would laugh, were it not obvious that Arkous is being completely serious.

Mortis speaks after a moment.  “I agree that the Wrath is capable of taking their wretched Temple,” he says, “But how do you intend to hold the planet?  It is deep within Republic-controlled space—“

“The objective is not to hold it permanently,” Arkous interrupts, waving his hand.  “The Jedi Temple Archive holds valuable information.  It is the key to our victory.  We only need to hold the planet long enough to mine the necessary data, and then we can call a retreat.  Else the armies of the Republic will wipe out the forces we leave there.”

“What sort of information would we acquire?” Marr asks.

Arkous smirks.  “Everything, of course.  To defeat your enemy, you must know them.”

Ravage leaps to his feet.  “You would have us bring Jedi heresy into our Empire?”

“Is it heresy if it works?” Vowrawn muses, looking thoughtful.  “Why, just look at the Hero of Tython.”

Silence falls over them once again at the mention of the Jedi responsible for the death of Vitiate.  S’kora is half-tempted to say that she respects that notorious knight more than she respects most of her Dark Council colleagues, but she is aware that this is not the time for her usual quips.

“Regardless of the Hero of Tython,” Arkous says, “This information is sensitive and would, of course, be restricted to only highly-placed Sith.”

Ravage sits, looking only slightly appeased. 

S’kora figures that if there is a moment in which she should speak up, it is now.  “And you trust the Emperor’s Wrath to carry out this plan?”

She feels the Wrath’s eyes on her again almost instantly. 

Arkous chuckles.  “I’m surprised you do not, Darth Nox.  Her track record is flawless.  Why, I do believe that she neutralized the Dread Masters while you were… otherwise occupied.”

“I’m not denying her efficiency.  Merely her loyalty.”

“If you are going to speak against me, you will do so to my face,” the Wrath demands. 

“Very well,” S’kora replies.  She steps down from her chair and moves so that she is in front of the Wrath.  “The title itself bothers me.  The _Emperor’s_ Wrath.  You have been allowed free reign due to your position as his direct servant, but Vitiate is dead.  Not that any of us truly believe that.”

Karrus bares her teeth, laying a hand on her lightsaber.  “You speak treason, _witch_.”

S’kora smiles.  “Then feel free to deal with me as you will.  Live up to your title.  I can’t promise that you will survive, but…”

Karrus snarls, yellow seeping into her eyes, before she relaxes her stance and takes her hand off her lightsaber.  S’kora watches, half-fascinated, as the yellow leaves her irises as easily as it came. 

“This mission is critical for the well-being of the Empire,” she says, more quietly.  “You have my word that I will complete it.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take it,” S’kora tells her, before turning to face Arkous.  “I’m requesting that the assault on Tython be jointly led by myself and Lord Karrus.”

Everyone on the Council shifts at that.  S’kora is somewhat amused that, even after all this time, she still has the ability to unnerve the Council.  Ravage looks like he’s about to protest, but to S’kora’s surprise he says nothing. 

Arkous claps his hands together.  “What a splendid idea!  Two Sith as powerful as yourselves, leading the charge… it will boost the morale of the men greatly.”

“Indeed,” Marr says, “If you are capable of working together.”

“I’m certain Lord Karrus and Lord Nox will be able to put aside their differences in order to make this mission a success,” Acina says.  There’s a glint in her eye that S’kora doesn’t like— but then, she doesn’t like most things that her peers do.  Attempting to manipulate the youngest member of the Dark Council into signing her own death warrant is one of those things.

It’s not the first time they’ve tried.  This time, however, the Wrath is involved, and S’kora is less optimistic about the outcome.

“I’m certain we will,” she finally says.  She stares Acina down until the older woman looks away.

“Excellent,” Arkous says, clapping his hands together.  “Darth Nox, Lord Karrus, if you would meet me for the briefing at Vaiken Spacedock at 0800 hours tomorrow, I would greatly appreciate it.  That is all I had to say on the matter.  Lord Karrus, if you do not have anything to add…”

“Nothing, my lord,” Karrus replies, bowing her head.  She is the picture of respect and poise, the Force pulled tightly around her like a cloak in a way that S’kora almost envies.  She pivots and exits the chamber, her stride smooth and graceful, each step one of a predator stalking its prey.  S’kora wonders if she does so consciously.

“On to other matters,” Marr says, evidently fed up with the pace that the meeting has had thus far.  “Darth Nox, I have concerns about your appointments to captain the ships carrying your Silencer weapons.  I assume that your agents perform background checks on these people?”

S’kora scowls behind her mask.  “I trust my apprentice’s judgment on the choices.”

“I do not.”

S’kora sees Ravage lean forward with interest.  It’s not often that Marr finds a reason to chew her out during a Council meeting, and she knows that he has to be enjoying the show.  It only serves to irritate her further.

“Last time I checked, they weren’t _your_ ships, Marr,” she snaps, deliberately choosing to ignore his title.  “Unless there has been a change of ownership that I wasn’t made aware of?”

She’s not an idiot.  She knows that Moff Pyron would change allegiance if he deemed her too weak to protect him, and he’s the one who oversees the Silencer project.  So far as she knows, she hasn’t yet messed up badly enough to warrant a shift in his loyalty, but the galaxy has a bit of a habit of blindsiding her.

“No such change of ownership has occurred,” Marr finally says.  “But in order to keep the Empire strong, we must make efforts to remain unified.”

“That seems to be your new favorite excuse to pry into the business of others,” S’kora retorts.  “Similarly to your attempts to interrogate me about the Republic squad that aided my team on Oricon, you will get no satisfactory answers.  I suggest you drop this line of inquiry before I lose my patience.”

She adds a bit of the Force behind her last statement.  It won’t truly affect anyone on the Dark Council, but it will get her point across. 

Marr nods after a moment.  “Very well.”  His tone warns her that this isn’t the last she’ll hear of this, though.

Mortis wraps things up with some reports on his own Sphere before they adjourn.  S’kora is the first to leave the Council chambers, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from her chest.  Xalek and Ashara are both waiting for her outside.  They fall into step a pace behind her, one on each side.

“It’s always too much to ask for a meteor to drop onto the Council chambers during the meetings, isn’t it?” S’kora sighs.

Xalek answers immediately.  “The academy is sufficiently shielded from that, my lord.”

S’kora can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

“I’ll admit, I don’t envy you, Master,” Ashara says.  “Apart from the Wrath showing up out of nowhere— which… wow.  I honestly didn’t think I could be surprised by the Sith anymore, but… wow.”

S’kora glances sharply at Ashara.  “I hope you didn’t try to speak to her.”

“Force, no!” Ashara exclaims.  “She’s terrifying.  Almost as scary as you are.”

“You’re too kind,” S’kora says drily.  “I feel I should add, at this point, that we will be working directly with her in the coming days.  She and I are going to be working with Darth Arkous on a plan to assault Tython.”

The words slip out before she realizes what she’s saying, and she immediately wishes she could have found a… less abrupt way of announcing that.  She pauses just outside the Academy cantina, placing a hand on Ashara’s shoulder.  Ashara’s expression is closed, but her face has paled.

Zash was always lecturing S’kora about keeping up appearances.  Naturally, S’kora’s policy has always been something along the lines of ‘kriff appearances’.  She only wears the helmet because she enjoys scaring her fellow Imperials.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Ashara shakes her head.  “It’s okay.  I knew something like this would happen sooner or later.  And… well, stuff like it has already happened.  I guess I just didn’t think I’d see my home again because I was attacking it.”

“You don’t have to be a part of the ground team,” S’kora assures her.  “I’m sure I can find a way for you to take part in orbit.  Or you can simply remain on the _Banshee_.  Two-vee would be grateful for the company, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, but no.”  Ashara gives her a warning look.  “We should discuss this further elsewhere, Master.”

S’kora shakes herself.  She, Ashara, and Xalek are getting curious looks from the acolytes.  “As always, you’re wiser than I am, Ashara.  Let’s head back to the ship.”

* * *

_She is facing down a Jedi with a murky figure.  She cannot make out a face, or any other details.  All she knows is that they are powerful.  Her lightsaber cleaves through them easily, however, and they fall, as many other Jedi have in the past._

_The image of the fallen Jedi solidifies, and becomes clear._

_It’s Kulah’ni._

_“No,” gasps S’kora, feeling suddenly as though something is clawing to get out of her lungs.  “No, Kulah’ni— I didn’t—“_

_The corpse rises up unexpectedly, and Kulah’ni (still with a charred line across her chest) points her holdout blaster at S’kora, her face a twisted mask of rage and grief.  It’s something that S’kora has never seen from Kulah’ni before._

_“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pull this trigger,” she says, voice low._

_S’kora bows her head.  “I can’t.”_

_The last thing she hears is the sound of a single shot._

S’kora blinks her eyes open, somehow not flinching upright through sheer force of will.  It isn’t her first nightmare, and it will not be her last, but she can sense the Dark Side swirling in the room and knows that it wasn’t just a dream.  The meaning of the vision is unclear, but it leaves her almost shaking in fear.

_Kulah’ni_.  Her sister cannot die— her sister, who is brave and determined and so _good_.  What are the chances that Kulah’ni will somehow be on Tython when the attack is carried out?  Jedi rarely allow outsiders on their precious home planet, according to what Ashara has told her.

Despite her attempts to reassure herself, S’kora finds that she cannot sleep any longer.  She becomes aware of Andronikos behind her, with one arm wrapped around her waist and his breaths dusting the back of her neck.  He’s a heavy sleeper, so she doesn’t feel that guilty about removing his arm and getting up, heading for the common room.

No one else on the ship seems to be awake.  S’kora is grateful for this; it gives her the chance to bury her face in her hands and try to calm her racing heart.  She feels like she’s either going to throw up or pass out, and in her blind panic she almost forgets the techniques that she taught herself after Zash betrayed her. 

They come back to her after about ten minutes.  She sucks in deep breaths, trying to take it slow, before she stands up and starts working through the motions of one of her lightsaber forms.  One round of the exercise is enough to settle her nerves, so that she feels comfortable sitting down again.

“Bit late for exercise.”

Andronikos comes out of their bedroom to sit next to her, close enough that their knees are touching.  S’kora doesn’t think twice before threading her fingers through his, chuckling inwardly at the thought that neither of them would have even considered these kinds of romantic overtures in the early stages of their relationship. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says.

He shrugs.  “It’s no big problem, Sith.  So what’s up?  I thought that your insomnia had stopped after Zash was… banished.”

“This isn’t that,” S’kora sighs.  “I had a Force vision.”

“Oh, great.”

“Yes, that wasn’t too far off from my reaction,” S’kora replies, chuckling slightly.  She sobers quickly.  “I told you about Kulah’ni, yes?”

“Your sister?  Famous Pub trooper, Major of Havoc Squad.  Hell of a reputation.”

“That’s the one.”  S’kora pauses, forcing herself to loosen her grip before she breaks Andronikos’ hand.  “I dreamt that I killed her.”

Andronikos sucks in a breath, already figuring out where her thoughts have been.  “You think she might be on Tython.”

“I’m not sure,” S’kora says.  She doesn’t say anything more than that, unwilling to go into what the second part of the vision might mean.  She wants to curl up into a ball and never leave the safety of the _Banshee_ again, but she knows that that isn’t an option.  She settles for curling into Andronikos’ side again and switching on a cheap holodrama.  His breathing evens out eventually, but S’kora stays awake through the rest of the night and early morning.

It’s Talos who finds them.  “Pardon the interruption, my lord,” he says, unfazed by the sight of the two of them cuddling, “but I believe you have a briefing to get to at 0800?”

“Yes, thank you,” S’kora mumbles, feeling like she’ll pass out from exhaustion at any moment.  She forces herself to stand, ignoring Andronikos’ grumbles as her movement wakes him.  “Set a course for Vaiken, would you?  It shouldn’t take us more than half an hour or so to arrive, but we wouldn’t want to keep Arkous waiting.”

“Of course, my lord.”

They arrive with fifteen minutes to spare.  S’kora ignores the awed looks that are sent her way as she makes her way to the briefing room that was specified on her datapad, with Talos trailing behind her.  He tends to take the best notes of all her crew members, so he’s usually the one she brings with her when she might not be able to pay attention— like right now, when she can barely keep her eyes open.

Unsurprisingly, Lord Karrus is already there.  She is speaking in a low voice to a woman surrounded by the Dark Side, and a man who looks as though he is in desperate need of a massage therapist.  Arkous is present as well, along with a blond woman that is clearly another Sith. 

“Lord Nox,” Arkous says.  “So glad you could join us.  You already know the Wrath— Lord Karrus, if you would like to introduce your associates…?”

Karrus nods at the woman.  “This is my apprentice, Jaesa Willsaam.”  She gestures towards the man next.  “And my advisor and medic, Captain Quinn.”

Quinn bows to S’kora; she instantly dislikes him.  “It is an honor to meet you, my lord.”

“Your flattery isn’t welcome or warranted,” S’kora tells him.  “But congratulations— you are the first person I’ve had to say that to today.”

Quinn looks taken aback.  “I mean no offense—“

“Just speak like a normal person, and we shall get along swimmingly, Captain.”

“Anyway,” Arkous cuts in.  Karrus has said nothing during the exchange, though her eyes are narrowed in S’kora’s direction.  “Lastly, this is my most trusted advisor, Lana Beniko.”

Lana bows as well.  “I’ve heard much of your exploits, Lord Nox.”

S’kora raises an eyebrow, even though she knows that Beniko can’t see it.  “Do you wish to be the second person today, Beniko?”

“If I thought your resentment was in any way productive, perhaps,” Lana replies, completely straight-faced.  “As it is, I’ll pass.”

Behind her, S’kora hears Talos cough to hide what’s probably a laugh.  She can’t even bring herself to be all that offended, rather impressed that Lana didn’t even come close to losing her composure.  “Well-played.”

Lana grants her a small flicker of a smile for that.

“Now then,” Arkous says, “shall we get started?”

* * *

In the end, S’kora chooses Xalek to be the one to accompany her on the ground, while Karrus chooses her own apprentice.  Willsaam is also a former Jedi, apparently, but the one time that S’kora sees her speaking with Ashara, the two seem to be arguing.  She knows that Ashara can take care of herself, so she decides not to intervene.

The rest of her crew are assigned to various other ground teams, where they will be needed. 

“Almost feels like my military days,” Andronikos mutters to her while they’re in hyperspace, on their way to Tython.  “I’m not sure I like it.”

“Don’t worry,” S’kora says.  “This is far worse than the Republic military.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

S’kora feels her grin fade, and turns to stare out the viewport.  She can see Karrus out of the corner of her eye, doing the same, and makes a decision.

“Would you check on Talos and the others?” she asks. 

Andronikos shrugs.  “Sure thing,” he says, before walking away.  S’kora, meanwhile, heads over to Karrus, standing next to her and copying her pose.  She knows that they look as different as night and day, with Karrus’ uncovered head and white armor providing a stark contrast to S’kora’s nightmarish helmet and equally threatening garb. 

“Why did you agree to this?” she asks. 

To her credit, the Wrath does not hesitate.  “This is a chance to strike at the heart of the Republic.  I could not refuse.”

S’kora nods.  It’s a response she expected.  “Perhaps I should ask a different question— why did Arkous choose you?”

“I am effective, as you know.  I destroyed the Dread Masters.”

“And you’ve slain many at the command of the Emperor, I know,” S’kora adds.  “But most Dark Council members either fear you or despise you.  It seems contradictory that one would request your aid.”

Anjanay looks at her, lip quirked into a smirk.  “And which category do you ascribe to, Darth Nox?”

“Both,” S’kora answers somewhat carelessly, ignoring Anjanay’s surprise.  “I feel that I should mention, at this point, that my trust in you is limited.”

“You have made that abundantly clear.”

“And yet I am choosing to trust you, now,” S’kora continues.  “Should you come across the Major of Havoc Squad in our assault on the Temple, I would request that you take her prisoner rather than kill her.”

The silence that follows her request makes her tense up, especially since she cannot for the life of her read Anjanay.  If the Wrath is somehow surprised or outraged by her request, she does not say so.

Finally, she says, “I should kill you right now for acting like a traitor.”

“That’s twice now you’ve accused me of treason.  I feel special.”

“I will take your request into consideration,” Anjanay continues, not sparing her a glance.  “But that is all.  I will not expend needless effort for your personal desires.  Not when the Empire’s future could be at stake.”

S’kora snorts, unsurprised by this.  “Alright.  I’d threaten you if I could, but I doubt it’s possible.  I’ll see you when we land.”

When she finds Andronikos again, he’s talking to Ashara and laughing.  She grabs him by the arm and drags him into a fresher long enough for her to pull off her helmet and kiss him hard.  They’re both breathless by the time they pull apart.

He smirks.  “Good luck to you, too.”

S’kora rolls her eyes, but smiles.  “I won’t need luck.”

* * *

S’kora’s and Anjanay’s shuttle barely makes it to the landing zone.  Their lightsabers are lit and they’re moving to confront the Republic troops within the next second; Xalek and Willsaam are not far behind. 

In spite of their adversity, it’s easy to work in tandem with the Wrath.  S’kora can move unhindered by Anjanay’s movements, the Force guiding them around one another.  S’kora moves like a wraith, always managing to sneak behind enemies and fell them before they have time to scream.  Anjanay’s approach to fighting is far more straightforward, and she seems to be more of a defensive fighter than most Sith, but she cuts through the Republic troops with brutal efficiency all the same.

They push the offensive towards the Jedi Temple, fighting through wave after wave of defense and leaving their backup to secure the way behind them so that more Imperial troops can follow.  There isn’t much of a need to speak; the offensive goes according to plan, and S’kora and Anjanay are mostly able to communicate through looks and gestures.

The defenses start to consist of Jedi instead of troops, and S’kora feels herself wince when her lightsaber cuts through the young Padawan learners.  None of them have learned to purge themselves of fear yet, as the Jedi Code demands, and each one dies with a pained look on their face. 

There is no time to mourn, though.

They make it into the Temple and target the upper levels, trying to get to the library as quickly as possible.  They hurry out of the generator room only to find that a woman blocks their way.

It’s a Togruta.  The Force that surrounds her is… enigmatic is the only word S’kora can think of, but her danger instinct is screaming. 

“I do not know why you are here, Sith,” the woman says.  “But the Force sends its warning.  You cannot be allowed to pass.”

“We need the library,” she tells Anjanay, Xalek, and Willsaam.  “I’ll take care of her.”

She doesn’t give the Togruta a chance to stop them, immediately leaping at her and unleashing a series of strikes, followed by a bout of Force lightning.  The Togruta draws her own lightsaber and blocks each strike with apparent ease, and then somehow absorbs the lightning into her palm.

Oh.

S’kora’s own lightning catches her in the chest and sends her flying.  The Togruta woman doesn’t give her a chance to recover, hurling chunks of debris at her while she sprints towards her, lightsaber drawn.  S’kora draws on the Force to shield herself from the debris, letting out a harsh cry as she draws from the well of her hatred, feeling its power sing through her veins.  It makes it easier for her to match the woman blow-for-blow, even though she still feels the force behind each one.

This woman is strong.  Stronger than any Jedi S’kora has faced before.

She allows the Force to explode from her in a wave, forcing the woman back several steps, before she takes her turn attacking.  It’s her saberstaff against the woman’s ordinary lightsaber, but the woman has no issues in defending herself from S’kora’s attack.  Frustrated, S’kora sends lightning running up and down the length of her lightsaber, and attacks again.

This time, when their sabers clash, the lightning travels up the woman’s arm, and S’kora thinks that is goes numb for a moment.  She chooses to press her attack, and for the first time, the woman is taking steps back. 

The battle goes on for what seems like forever, but S’kora feels herself gritting her teeth as she begins to tire.  For whatever reason, she just can’t seem to get the upper hand.  Even when it seems like she does, the Togrutan always seems to find a way to take it back.

She finally sees an opening, and takes it— only to find that she can’t move her lightsaber.

Somehow, the woman has deactivated her own weapon and grabbed S’kora’s with both hands.  A small smile has appeared on her face, and before S’kora can realize what’s happening, her lightsaber (which she has carried with her since her time on Korriban) is shattering in her hands.

It causes a small shockwave, knocking S’kora backwards.  Panic hits her, and she backflips to avoid a slash from the woman, who has reignited her lightsaber.  S’kora has always been good at improvising on the fly, however, and she gathers all of her strength in the Force to pull the Togrutan’s lightsaber to her.

A single-bladed lightsaber feels wrong in her hands, but she still remembers how to stab people, at least. 

It turns out to be harder than that when the Togrutan pulls the same maneuver from before, this time on _her own lightsaber_.

S’kora barely has time to blink before the woman is hurling everything within reach at her, forcing her to duck and dodge and twist around.  She lets out a yell when the woman catches her with the Force in mid-air, bringing her to a halt.  S’kora watches as the woman gathers the debris in a circle around her, preparing to strike.

The last time she had been driven to this point had been her fight with Thanaton.

_You never call,_ Ergast says.  _You never write._

_Just shut up.  You know what to do._

_As you wish._

And suddenly, S’kora feels as though she could crush the entire Jedi Temple— nay, the planet itself.  She frees herself from the woman’s grasp easily, watching as her eyes widen.  The rest of the world seems to decelerate, the movement of the debris slowing to a crawl.  S’kora gathers whatever energy she can into the fingertips of her right hand, and slips through the ring of debris.  She reaches forward, placing the orb of energy in the woman’s chest as though she were merely planting a flower, and jumps backwards.

There’s the sound of a choked scream, followed by the smell of charred flesh.

S’kora’s breathing heavily from exertion as she allows her grasp on the ghosts’ power to slip.  The Togrutan woman is lying on the floor in the center of her debris ring, her eyes sightless as she gazes upward. 

Her chest… S’kora has to look away from that.

There are footsteps, and she looks up to see Anjanay picking her way through the temple.  “We’ve secured the library and the rest of the Temple.”  She pauses, staring at the Jedi Master who lies dead on the floor for a few moments.  “I thought you’d like to know that Havoc Squad is not on the planet.”

S’kora shakes herself.  “Thank you.”

It takes her several minutes before she feels recovered enough to leave the room.  The ghosts are busy laughing at her, mocking her for not using their power more.  She snarls at them to shut up, growling out loud when they do not. 

She directs Xalek to head back to their ship, heading to the Temple holoterminal so that she can contact Arkous and ask if he needs anything else from her. 

It’s Lana Beniko who answers.

“Darth Nox,” she says.  “I was just told by Lord Karrus that your assault was successful.  I believe congratulations are in order.”

It doesn’t particularly feel like a victory to S’kora.  “I believe that Arkous is the one truly deserving of that, since he masterminded this operation.”

Lana smiles.  “Yes, well, I’m certain that you and the Wrath were essential parts of this.  We were glad to have you on board.  I doubt you will want to stay for the more bureaucratic aspects of this attack, so… it may very well be a while before either of us speaks again.  I wanted to say that I’m glad to have met you.”

For once, S’kora can detect no insincerity.  “Likewise,” she replies, more warmly than she means to. 

Lana bows her head, and her hologram vanishes. 

S’kora leaves the Jedi Temple a few minutes later, fully prepared to go back to her ship and sleep for the next two days.  She almost misses the song that the Force is singing, but as the shuttle prepares to take her to the orbital station, she realizes what it is. 

It’s a song of mourning.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> 1\. If you've read Non-reactive, then you know exactly who S'kora killed and why that's a bad thing.
> 
> 2\. Enter my Sith Warrior, Anjanay Karrus. Not much is revealed about her at this point, but she's going to be showing up again later. My Agent was originally slated to appear in this fic as well, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out a way to fit her into this one. S'kora's not a huge fan of the Emperor, and she's not sure where Anjanay stands with regards to him, hence her wariness and distrust.
> 
> 3\. I was also hoping to have more S'kora/Lana interaction than what we got... but again, it wasn't really relevant to the plot at this point.
> 
> 4\. R.I.P. Torunna Felmar, Barsen'thor of the Jedi Order
> 
> If you have any questions my askbox is always open on my [Tumblr](http://jaennsisters.tumblr.com)!


End file.
